Chessie
Community Member
- MBTI
- INfJ
I woke up this morning at 5:30 which is, lemme tell you, a shit time to wake up. I stretched real big. All six foot of muscular me having a good stretch right there in bed. The sun was coming in already and you know my first thought?
"Christ, I should lose five pounds."
I had to stop for ten seconds and think 'Where in the fuck did that come from?'.
I don't need to lose five pounds. I spent last night on a mat with people a hundred pounds heavier being tossed around like a rag-doll and I'm already two hundred some odd. i enjoy being strong and I enjoy lifting weights. Can it be I've been infected by this a genuine pop-culture obsession with being a stick figure in a thong?
Do I really worry about this with all the shapes and glories of humankind and the beauty of existing sweeping before me in every moment? Am I so shallow and simplistic that I am gonna give two shits about how heavy I am when quasars are crashing into black-holes and children who could bring about The Singularity or the new cognitive emergence of our species are dying in foreign places?
You know what? Fuck it. I like pie.
That's what I said. I have an apple pie sitting in the fridge. I've tried worshiping all different kinds of things throughout my life and you know what makes me feel better when things are crap? Pie.
Southern Baptism gave me crackers that taste like poop and a constant case of 'You're not good enough'. If I want that, I can just go do the run-way model diet. Capitalism told me I'd best save all my pie and never eat it, then take everyone else's pie so they can't eat theirs either. Communism wanted to take my pie, give me a crumb, and toss it around until everyone's got a crumb. Birther-ism wants to see my pie's certificate of authenticity.
Why would I want to go through all of that? Life isn't so bad when pie is around. You can't look out over even the most apocalyptic landscape that mankind can produce and think 'Nope, some pie won't make this just a little better'.
Even in the deepest hells, I can call out to pie and I know that somewhere...pie exists if I'm willing to hunt it down. I can't say that about God or the Free Market. I can't say that about Socialism or Objectivism.
So you know what? Fuck it. I'm done with all those things. This morning I am gonna take a deep breath and then...I'm going to have a slice of pie.
*Pauses in her writing and goes and heats up her pie and take a big ol' bite.*
You know what? I think everything will be okay.
"Christ, I should lose five pounds."
I had to stop for ten seconds and think 'Where in the fuck did that come from?'.
I don't need to lose five pounds. I spent last night on a mat with people a hundred pounds heavier being tossed around like a rag-doll and I'm already two hundred some odd. i enjoy being strong and I enjoy lifting weights. Can it be I've been infected by this a genuine pop-culture obsession with being a stick figure in a thong?
Do I really worry about this with all the shapes and glories of humankind and the beauty of existing sweeping before me in every moment? Am I so shallow and simplistic that I am gonna give two shits about how heavy I am when quasars are crashing into black-holes and children who could bring about The Singularity or the new cognitive emergence of our species are dying in foreign places?
You know what? Fuck it. I like pie.
That's what I said. I have an apple pie sitting in the fridge. I've tried worshiping all different kinds of things throughout my life and you know what makes me feel better when things are crap? Pie.
Southern Baptism gave me crackers that taste like poop and a constant case of 'You're not good enough'. If I want that, I can just go do the run-way model diet. Capitalism told me I'd best save all my pie and never eat it, then take everyone else's pie so they can't eat theirs either. Communism wanted to take my pie, give me a crumb, and toss it around until everyone's got a crumb. Birther-ism wants to see my pie's certificate of authenticity.
Why would I want to go through all of that? Life isn't so bad when pie is around. You can't look out over even the most apocalyptic landscape that mankind can produce and think 'Nope, some pie won't make this just a little better'.
Even in the deepest hells, I can call out to pie and I know that somewhere...pie exists if I'm willing to hunt it down. I can't say that about God or the Free Market. I can't say that about Socialism or Objectivism.
So you know what? Fuck it. I'm done with all those things. This morning I am gonna take a deep breath and then...I'm going to have a slice of pie.
*Pauses in her writing and goes and heats up her pie and take a big ol' bite.*
You know what? I think everything will be okay.
